That Night
by TehPinkKitten
Summary: John begins to figure out about Sherlock's past lover. Sherlock begins to open up. A few John/ Sherlock in the first three chapter. Hints of actual plot in chapter four.
1. Chapter 1

"Case?" John randomly blurted out as he poured a small teacup and filled it with tea. He took the hot cup in his hands and blew softly before taking a small sip. Sherlock sat on the couch, hands pressed together in a thoughtful manner and stared at John's lips unconsciously, thinking of the case instead of him.

'Time of death was put around 12:00 midnight so that mean the killer was probably home at around...'

"Sherlock."

"Shut up!" he snapped as he clenched his jaw, fisted his hands and pressed his eyes shut. It was his way of calming and it completely work so he resumed his thinking. "I do apologize but let me think." He pressed his hands together once more and leans in slowly. Johns sighed at the sudden spike of anger and nodded slightly. He walked around the kitchen, his fingers brushing slightly against the chemistry set he had set up on their dinner table. He tapped the glass and the glass responded with a small hum. He misses his slight touches from his colleague, his friend, his Sherlock. His ghostly touch still remained upon his neck and he cupped his head and spun him softly.

Suddenly, his hand brushed the back of his neck and slightly around his shoulders. "Sherlock I-" He had to say something but he had almost forgotten that Sherlock was in his cocoon and closed his mouth. 'How can I tell him? I nearly did at Angelo's.' He took a step closer to the sink and placed the cup that was still filled into the sink. He didn't want tea anymore, he figured. It will just make things worse.

"Your stressed. Tell me," he heard Sherlock's voice. His low, purring tone that John had a while getting used. "John." John always loved the way he says his voice. It was mostly strong at victorious times and breathlessly when in times of distress. His voice always leaving small goose bumps and forced his hair to stand on his back. "Turn and look at me."

"No..." he said in a small laughing tone. He knew what Sherlock was trying to do the moment the words slipped out of his mouth. He wanted to see his face, to deduce what was the matter but now he couldn't. "I'm fine right here." John gripped the sink frame so hard, he began to scratch the silver frame so he released it, letting out a huff. "Don't worry about me."

"You are my partner. If you ought to behave like this for the rest of your life, then at least tell me what is the matter. If not, quit acting like such a baby!" Sherlock scolded at him and crossed his arms. He never thought twice about what he said but John did. He cared for Sherlock's words and even the little breathily little sighs he does in between long sentences.

'You are my partner.' the words hit him more than anything and the pit of his stomach was filled with a bit a joy but also he found anger. "Nothing!" he exclaimed as he fisted his hand. "I have always acted like such a bloody baby to you! Nothing I will do will please you, right?" he snapped back, needing something to chuck at the wall and his favorite teacup was the first object. He threw it as hard as he could and aimed it as if there was a mark on the wall for target practice.

Sherlock knew Mrs. Hudson had come in on their conversation so Sherlock looked at her and shook his head like he was in control of the situation. When Mrs. Hudson left, John turned his head to Sherlock. By then, he had already gotten up and was a few steps away from John.

'When did he...-' John paused momentarily as he felt the breathing became stronger by each step he took. "Sherlock I-" His voice caught in his throat as Sherlock's head bent down and let out a hot breath on his neck purposely... No... Curiously. He leaned back and met the doctors eyes as it dilated. Sherlock moved slow, brushing his fingers against him and hearing John's breath hitch. As soon as the tips of his index and middle made it up to his wrists, he took a quick pulse. He noticed his moist palms and looked at his adam's apple as it raised and lowered while John swallowed indicating that his throat was dry; very dry. Sherlock looked away at the thought of John thinking of him as an intimate partner instead of a business one.

"Your-" He froze as his body responded to the news and his throat dried quickly. He cleared his throat in attempts to speak again. "Your favorite teacup. You threw it."

"I did... What...?" Johns eyes searched the floor and cursed at himself. He bit his bottom lip and began walking towards the cup. It was indeed his favorite cup as he noticed while picking up the small pieces as quick as he can. Sherlock noticed that John was mumbling something under his breath and saw that he was picking up the shards a little too quickly.

"Not so fast-"

"Ah! Bloody hell!" John shouted in pain as he dropped the shards and ran towards the sink. Sherlock took a few steps to the sink and bent over his shoulder to see John cleaning the small but deep cut. "Damn. There still a shard in there." John mumbled to himself as he brought his index finger near his mouth but Sherlock quickly caught his wrist.

"Don't." he firmly said as if John's finger was poison. John looked at him, in profound shock as Sherlock slowly moved his finger towards his mouth. John couldn't help but let out a gasp when his friend's tongue began exploring his finger but he also let out a groan when Sherlock sucked suddenly.

'H-His mouth. It's really that hot?' John swallowed hard and bit his bottom lip. Clearly Sherlock has already removed the shard and spat it out but he couldn't help but to dive back to his finger and ran his tongue across the wound. By then, Johns breath quickened slightly as a blush began to rise. "You really didn't-"

"I wanted to." Sherlock told him in a beat as he pushed his hand away slowly. He looked down at his partner and gave him a signature smirk and finally let go of his wrist. "You can put peroxide on it now before it infects-"

"Kiss me already." John thought it but somehow it his slipped out of his lips. He heard Sherlock's breathing cease for a moment before he continued and sighed. It wasn't a frustrated sigh and John could tell. It was almost a confused sigh and Sherlock was usually aware of things before it happens so he doesn't have any room for confusion but with John, he's someone different.

Sherlock turned his way towards him and took a few steps until the tip of his toe reaches his. John was now embarrassed to even look up at Sherlock, mainly because what he said and because he said that to Sherlock without thinking correctly. Then, he felt the index finger of Sherlock's, slowly picking up his head to look directly into his eyes. Sherlock could read everything; the lust, passion ,and sheer pent up primal energy that was ready to explode. His head bent down but it wasn't for the contact. Instead, his mouth was near his ear, breathing hotly down his neck and gently nibbling his ear. "Say that again?" he huskily said as his own breaths began slightly rough.

"Bloody kiss me already." John, who always seemed like a kitten to him, was now growing like a dog and in such a demanding tone. He never saw John this way and that made him want him more.

At first Sherlock experimented by rubbing his cheek against his before leaning back. He saw the want in his eyes and, god, how he wanted him to let go of his pent up emotions. He continued his experimentation as he leaned forward and this time, his lips lightly brushed his bottom one and he heard John try to hold back a groan but it escaped when Sherlock circled his arm behind his neck and grabbed at his hair. Sherlock caught his open mouth and slipped his tongue in, searching for John's. As soon as he found his, he curled slightly around his tongue, encouraging him to do something. When he responded, both men moaned. Never did they thought they would be this close together, this intimate with each other.

John pulled back only an inch to breath. "My. God. Sherlock." he panted his words as he wrapped both of his arms around his neck and brought him in hard, their lips crushing together and teeth clashing. They didn't care how hard they were biting each other's lips because when they tasted blood, they only resumed and broke it when one did not have enough breath. Sherlocks hand stood at the back of his neck while the other began to unbutton his shirt and parting them to rub slowly and teasingly. "Oh... Go-" he couldn't finish as Sherlock silenced him with a chase kiss before unbuckling John's jeans. "Please... Yes." he breathed as he tried to catch himself.

"You sure?"

"God dammit Sher-" his voice got stuck in the deepest part of his throat as Sherlock's hand slipped inside the waistband. Johns hand uncurled from Sherlock's neck and now were holding the side of his shoulders for support as Sherlock's smooth, cold fingers grasped the base of his cock and pulled up gently. Somehow, that wasn't enough. He wanted more.

It was as if Sherlock read his mind when his fingers ceased and when his hands made it up with the hips of the jeans, he pulled down slowly along with his trousers. Sherlock kneeled to help John fully remove his trousers and tossed them in a far corner.

"Won't me needing that for a while." Sherlock smirked while his hand made it back to John's cock but at the same time, his head was brought closer to him. Johns muscles tensed slightly and he quickly put his hand on his curls.

"Sherlock...-"

"Let me do my experiments. Shall we continue?" Sherlock didn't sound agitated nor disappointed. He knew there would be a slight hesitation in John. He continued until John was filling in his mouth, hitting the back of his throat but since Sherlock never had a gag reflex, he was fine with it.

John let out a pleasurable moan as he threw his head back, softly thrusting into his friends mouth. The hand on his head began to slowly close on Sherlock's curls and fully gripped him. Sherlock's hands began to crawl up to his hips and pin him as he looked up at his friend. John looked down at Sherlock and mentally tried to tell him he was ready now and Sherlock caught the message. When Sherlock removed his mouth, John whimpered and moaned his name breathlessly as Sherlock's tongue danced at the tip where the slit was. Sherlock hummed when he pulled back and looked at his friend. His head was thrown back, eyes screws shut, sweat running down his face, labored breathing... He was gorgeous. "Your enjoying yourself." He joked which made his friend open his eyes and look at him, eye burning.

"Sherlock... Please... For Christ sake I need to-"

"Well aware of your situation just trying to solve it in a more reasonable way." Sherlock knew how this all will end; one inside the other, panting, sweating, whispering nonsense to each other. What he was really intrigued is the fact that who will be inside who? Then came a small tint of red on his cheeks. He stood, eyes kept on John as he raised himself and meet his lips and a more passionate kiss than the heated and rushed one. He felt himself being pushed slightly back into the table and gasped slightly. "My god, John-"

"Oh sorry. Your chemistry set..." John exhaled as he gently pushed him against the counter. His self control was slipping as he growled in his ear to lean forward onto the counter and Sherlock did what he was told but with a smirk on his face. "Your pants. Remove them. Now." He said breathing heavily as he began to remove his belt buckle and slip the belt out. Sherlock's hands lazily began to unbutton his his pants and pushed downwards, releasing himself from the constraints of his trousers. Johns eyes slowly inspected his body and his hand made it up to his arse. He became mesmerized of how soft he was and how willing he was to him.

"Like what you see?"

"Your prefect." John smirked slightly to Sherlock's shifting when he rubbed a knuckle against his entrance. He too began to experiment as he breached the tip of his finger but pulled back slightly when hearing Sherlock whimper. God, that sound he could never forget. "The matter?"

"Unprepared. God I want you so much." Sherlock backed up against his hand as he whimpered once more, not turning his head to show his madly blushing face. John began looking around and quickly left to the living room, leaving poor Sherlock alone with his aching member but not for long as he returned with a bottle of lube in his hand. Sherlock looked at him but when his eyes reached his hands, he gave him a look of disgust. "What? It's either this or nothing."

"Hurry. In me. Now. Please." He shut his eyes as he placed his head against his arm and moaned. Johns breath caught in his chest. He had never Sherlock moan in such way and never heard him beg. He looked spectacular and he was glad that Sherlock trusted him so much to break in front of him. "John. Now." Sherlock became impatient as he thrust against nothing. When he felt a moist finger breach him, he fisted his hand and bit his lip, swallowing the need to cry out. John tried his best not to cause him any pains as he experimented, giving it a few thrusts before entering a second finger. Sherlock shuddered as he felt himself being stretched. "For the... Love of god." Sherlock whimpered as his head rolled against his arm and bucked his hips slowly. John looked at Sherlock's face as he turned to see him. Lips swollen, cheeks flushed, drenched hair, sweating body. John would've came undone just by looking at him. "A third, John. A third." now he was practically begging.

"You sure?"

"Have you... Don't this before?" Sherlock could tell.

John hesitated "No."

"Figured." Sherlock breathed and smiled but when he entered a third, he let out a small groan as bit his lip. John nearly pulled back but Sherlock backed his hips up into his fingers. "No... Keep going." John did what he was told, thrusting his fingers slowly into him, trying to find a spot in which would make his knees give away. When he flicked his wrist and heard Sherlock finally cried out, he gave out a smile, knowing that he found it. He removed his fingers slowly and opened the bottle, coating his member slowly before placing it near his entrance.

"Sherlock-"

"John." His voice was steady now as he turned his head to make eye contact. John knew already and gave him a warm smile. He pushed up slowly, making his way inside of him. When the tip breached, he paused, giving himself a few moments before continuing until he reached the middle.

He was going too slow for Sherlock and he became impatient. Sherlock bucked his hips back, sliding John in way too fast. He gasped, the sound that Sherlock can hear perfectly before he felt his hands grip each side of his hip. "A moment, Sherlock. Your incredibly tight." John said before giving a few breaths. Almost without warning, he thrust the rest inside of him, making Sherlock inhale sharply and swing his arm to grip his wrist. "You alright?"

"Fine." One word was all he could give out before John pulled back and thrust his was back into him. Sherlock felt that he was virgin by the way he thrust. He knew that John was experimenting as he shifted into an uncomfortable position, making him groan in pain which worried John.

"I'm sorry. I just-"

"Harder." Sherlock moaned out loud as the grip on John's wrist increased. John swallowed and nearly came and his words. He leaned in, almost against his back as he increased his power but not the speed. He wanted to find Sherlock's sweet spot again so he shifted back into a more comfortable position before gripping his hips tighter and thrust in before hearing Sherlock give out a sort of a sob and a moan mixed. "Yes..." He whispered and some other words that were incoherent.

John pressed his chest against his back and released one side of his hip to swing around Sherlock and grab him firmly. Feeling him shudder encouraged him to pound in him faster as he began stroking him, running his thumb over the tip.

Sherlock's moans became more frequent and louder and John was just surprised that Mrs. Hudson haven't knocked yet. The thought of that erased when he heard Sherlock cry out Johns in pure ecstasy and he began to spasm around him. He couldn't take it anymore as he placed a couple of well thrusts and broke, shuddering his release before moaning Sherlock's name. John released his cock and his other hand made it to Sherlock's hot one, on the edge of the counter. Both began panting quickly, trying to control their breaths. John felt Sherlock's legs shake and quickly reacted before Sherlock collapses. He picked him up like he would to his bride and slowly walked to the living room slowly, afraid that his legs would give out too. When John placed Sherlock on the couch, he heard him mumble something incoherent and shift. He spread out a bed sheet and placed it neatly on top of Sherlock and began fetching his clothing. As soon as he buttoned up, he heard a knock and his head snapped towards the door.

"I have tea." Mrs. Hudson sounded happy behind the door and when he decided to open, her face lid up. Mrs. Hudson knew what happened but she was alright with it. What a saint.

As Mrs. Hudson left, John took the tray to the table between the couch and the chair and sat. He couldn't help but look at Sherlock, finally sleeping like a baby. It took him a few moments thinking about his Sherlock, his lover.

John sniffed in his sleep, smelling something odd. Smoke. His body stiffened for a moment before opening his eyes and looked around the room. He felt a cramp on his neck as he turned it, rubbing his neck trying to get rid of it. He looked at himself and saw he had the same clothes on since the night. Then, everything what happened that night rushed to him, making him blush violently.

"Glad your awake." He heard Sherlock say. He turned to him which he was by the window with nothing on than a bed sheet, smoking.

Smoking?

"Sherlock... Your smoking?"

"Mrs. Hudson sent two up here along with matches." Sherlock puffed out and inhaled again slowly. John blinked a few times until Sherlock turned towards him and handed him his half-finished cigarette. "Take a slow breath. Don't force yourself or you'll choke." John was about to tell him that he doesn't smoke but he wanted at least try, wanted to know why everyone is so hooked on it so he pressed it near his lips and took it in slowly and held it. The taste wasnt that bad but it was still bad so he exhaled and coughed slightly, removing the cigarette from his mouth.

"Smoke after sex? Quite like you." John joked as he inhaled slowly. He exhaled and chuckled slightly at the smile Sherlocks face. It was cheeky and nothing like him, making his comment ironic. "Are you wearing any underwear?"

"Pffft no." He said under his breath as he waved his hand around the air. Sherlock began to walk across to the bathroom.

"Sherlock, Did you like it?" John said before he could reach the bathroom. He turned and looked at John, His John, and gave him his usual smirk.

"I would have stopped you if I didn't. Besides, last night happened because of me." Sherlock said removing the sheet and began to walk the rest of the way to the bathroom naked in front of John. His eyes widened at the sight and coughed, grounding the rest of the cigarette on the ashtray before taking a deep breath. He's something else, he thought. Not 'The virgin' anymore but his Sherlock.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since that night occured and the coversation they had in the morning, John had been looking a Sherlock from time to time, watching him. The only problem with that is when everytime Sherlock would bend over to inspect a body, John would blush violently. He was teasing John on purpose, feeling the need to entertain himself through John's reactions.

"Are you alright?" Lestrade snapped John out of his mind and he winced slightly. He looked at Lestrade with a burning face and nodded slightly. He as embarrassed and it didn't take a sociopathic detective to realize that. To lessen the embarrassment, Lestrade placed a hand against his forehead and asked, "Do you have a fever?"

"I'm a doctor. If I should have a fever of any kind, I would know." John quickly responded as he took a step back, away from Lestrade's hand and turned his head towards Sherlock who was now looking at him. John gave him a I-will-pound-you-in-front-of-everyone look then he rolled his eyes when Sherlock shook his head. They had there moments when they would stare at eachother until they notice that they are and this is happenes frequently. Sherlock would tease, John would blush, and someone would usually interrupt.

"Man was a homosexual, married to a woman to hide it, no kids, very rich man but had a lot of enemies. And when I say this, I mean it. Prime suspect would be the wife. He told her, she got mad. No..." He faltered when his eyes met with John but when he eyed the body, he resumed. "She broke it off with him and he got mad. This murder was out of self-defense." Sherlock summarized with the falter. He looked at the wound and squinted. "They were in the middle of dinner too so it was around six."

"How?" Lestrade asked as he looked at the table, then he kept his mouth shut.

"Yes," he hissed as he countinued. "There's dinner on the table and food on the knife and wound." He pointed out. Lestrade nearly palmed his forehead but instead he shook it slowly.

John watched Sherlock with a spark in his eyes. Sherlock saw the small reaction in John when he noticed the spark. Sherlock got up from his knees and faced Lestrade. He gave him a nod, silently telling him that he was finnished. Sherlock nodded back and faced John. "Let's return to the flat, John. Some matters I need to discuss." He said in such a purring voice, it sent shivers down Johns back. He knew what was comming and he couldn't stop it so he decided to run with it. Just for his sake, he asked what was the matter that he needs to discuss but he shot him a look that was purely dark. John gulped before letting out an uneasy breath. Oh, how he isn't going to be able to walk for days.

~000~

As soon as John steped a foot into the flat, Sherlock was on him quicker than anyone. He pushed him up against the door and quietly locked it. He violently kissed him with so much fever and lust as his hands began unbuttoning his coat as quick as he can. "Jesus, Sherlock." He whispered breathlessly as he heard a button snap and fell towards the floor. Sherlock acted as if he didn't know it happened as he pushed back his coat out of his shoulders and into the floor. Next was his shirt and that didn't stop him from his chest as he took both sides of his shirt and ripped it down the middle, more buttons flying towards the floor.

"You are mine." He rasped as he slid a wet tongue down his ear and back to his neck. He left small bite marks and wet trails as he kneeled slowly to reach his chest. His eyes flicked up to see John's head back against the door, sweating and moaning incoherent words. He fixed his eyes back on his chest as he ran his fingers down, memorizing every scar that was either done himself, childhood, or when he was at war. This is one of the things that he loved about John. He was a soldier, a man that can endure a lot of things.

His hands unfastened his belt quickly and whipped it off, tossing it to the far side of the room. His fingers made it up to his button and quickly unfastened his pants and unzipped. "Shit, John." He hissed as he grounded his own erection with the palm of his hand. He pulled down John's jeans with a sharp tug, letting it pool to his knees. Sherlock could feel the heat readiating from his body as his fingers traced the waistband. He looked up once more as he felt one hand ruffling his curl and saw that his other hand as scratching at the door. He loved how John's breath hitched when his hand entered the waist band, barely brushing against the tip of his erection.

John swallowed as he felt his throat dried. "Sherl-" His voice died out into a moan as he felt his other hand tug down his drawers and grasp his member. He tried to open his mouth to speak but his voice broke. He wanted to keep his composure but Sherlocks expert hands didn't let him. It caught him as a surprise as Sherlock knew exactly where to touch to make him break down which is impossible because it was only yesterday that they started this. Maybe he was quick learner.

Sherlock stroked from the base up, making John bite his lip when his tongue slid across the tip. John couldn't stop thrusting his hip, trying to create some sort of fiction. When Sherlock sank his mouth down his member, John gave out a pleasurable cry and his knees gave out. Sherlock quickly wrapped his arms around his waist and brought him down slowly before continuing his work, kissing his way down once more, grasping him and sucking him slightly.

John softly gripped Sherlock's hair, leading him slightly lower and increasing the speed. He looked down at his lover and couldn't help but smirk as he hollowed his mouth while sucking. His grip on his tightened as he felt something build up deep within him. "Sherlock, I... I need to-" Sherlock stopped suddenly, making John whimper slightly, thrusting his hips up to nothing now. As Sherlock stood, John watched him when he walked away towards the room. Johns head rested against the floor, eyes on the ceiling. His fingers traced all of the kisses Sherlock placed on his chest, fingers running lower until he reached his member.

"Don't touch yourself." Hearing Sherlock hiss made him stop sharply and moan at the sudden loss of friction. He pleaded in whispers as his hips began to thrust upwards, trying to find his hands. When slick hands grasped him and did a sharp tug, he groaned as he looked up at Sherlock's naked body and wondered when he finally took off his clothes. His hands and his member were already covered in lube as he began readying John, inserting a finger and stroking him softly. "You. Are. Tight." He growled into his ear as John moaned loudly, biting his lip to quiet himself but when Sherlock entered a second finger and began thrusting, John couldn't hold back. He inhaled before letting out a long moan as his hands gripped Sherlocks shoulders, anything to confirm him that he was really here, really doing this to him.

He was close once again and he knew. When the grip on his shoulder tighten and his moanes grew, he halted suddenly and smiled when hearing John plead breathlessly. Sherlocks hands removed itself and began dragging down his leg. Then he pulled John by his legs and wrapped them around his waist, placing his hands on either side of his head. He brought his face close to Johns, hearing his breath, his heartbeat, his small whimpers and moans. His self controll diminished quickly as he pressing himself into his opening without warning. When he thrusted his way in, he planted his mouth against John's, swallowing his cries as he thrusted deeply inside, gripping his thighs in a bruising, possessive way.

"Sh-Sherlock..." He shuddered as Sherlock slammed harder. Johns head began hitting the door softly as he threw his arms around his neck, bringing him closer to feel him. Sherlock dipped his head down, focusing on his neck as his teeth and tongue began it's assult, leaving red marks. The marks would surely become bruises in the morning but none of them seems to care at the moment.

"Harder." John whispered hotly into his ear, feeling the build of pressure at it's peak. "Please... I need to-"

"Then do so." Sherlock growled as the grip on his thigh tightened slightly. That sweet pleasurable pain was enough to throw John over the edge. His fingers gripped his hair and his mouth hung open as he tried to let out a cry but Sherlocks lips silence him to only grunts and moans. His legs tightened around Sherlocks waists as he came, pushing him to thrust deeper if possible. A few more thrusts and Sherlock was thrown off as well, meeting John at the end as he collapses on him, breathing quickly to gain control over his breathing and hearing Johns heartbeat steadied. John unhooked his legs and limply, it fell.

"Well," John panted as he gained some control over his breathing. His hands ran over Sherlock's curly hair and he let out a smile. "You were impatient... It's not like you." He pointed out. He didn't know what happened between them through the cab ride back to the flat. There was something in Sherlock that clicked. He wasn't sure what but he had the idea.

"There was no difference-"

"You were," John hesitated as he found the answer in his eyes and how frantic his thrusts, his kiss, and the way he handled him. He already discribed it but it seem that Sherlock pounded the thought out of his mind to even remember. "Possesive." He said after a while. Sherlock picked up his head to looked up at Iohn with apologetic eyes. "It was thrilling, exciting... Not something I would expect from you. You cant be possessive every day though because my arse can't survive a pounding like the one I just received."

"Suppose your right." Sherlock slowly withdrew himself after he was limp and chuckled slightly. He knew it was a genuine one, the only one that he usually shares with him and only him. Probably because the flashing of the teeth as he smiles and laughs shows other people that there is a side of him that is definitely human but he doesn't want to show it. No one but John. That's how he knows that he's put his trust into his hands and that warms Johns heart. Seeing Sherlock smile make him feel like things will not go wrong, that everythings alright. Makes him feel like home.

"Alright... I'm exhausted." John spoke after a while of silence. Before his hands began pushing Sherlock to the side, he heard soft breathing, perhaps snoring, from Sherlocks part. Sherlock? Asleep? Can't be true, he told himself as he tried his best to sit up and catch Sherlocks face. It's all true, Sherlock Holmes fell asleep. His lashes laying heavily high against his cheekbone and his chest heaving slowly in every sleeping breath. God, he was a saint. "Sherlock..."

"John. Sleep. Now." He heard the slight mumble and smiled. Never have he heard that work come out of his lips.

"Come, I'll take you to bed."

"Sleep with me." John stopped himself from carrying him as he heard his words. He wanted him to sleep with him which made him blush violently due to the fact that he trusts him completly.

"Alright. I'll carry you." This has been the second time Sherlock has fallen asleep during sex and the second time John has to carry him towards something to sleep on but he was alright with it. As long as he sleeps, he will always be alright with it.

After gently placing Sherlock into the bed, he climbed over to the otherside, being careful and not kicking him, and threw the bedsheet over them. John pressed his chest against his back and wrapped his arm over his waist after feeling Sherlock shifted himself into a ball. "Goodnight..." He heard Sherlock mumble slightly and smiled, lips pressed against the back of his neck.

"Night."  
>-<p>

"For the love of-" John pressed his eyes with the palm of his hands as he walked out of the room with the bedsheet. He saw Sherlock in his robe, playing the violin softly and swaying around the living room. He noticed that their clothes were not on the floor anymore and gave Sherlock a smile. "You cleaned up?"

"How are you feeling?" The playing came to a sudden hault as Sherlock turned to see his flatmate. John's ears perked slightly as he began walking towards him with a slight limp. Not from his injuries from the past, but from the actions of last night.

"Lets just say that my sexuality is straighter than my walking." he joked as he walked towards the kitchen. Sherlock bowed his head slowly and let out a sigh.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Sherlock, it's fine. No one will be able to distinguish the difference. Besides," John paused as he put the pot of water on top of the stove to heat. "The possessive Sherlock was, for the lack of better words, fun."

"Fun?"

"Yes!" he laughed as he shook his head. "Just not every day of the weak. Also, let's not be sex junkies. My behind will not survive tomorrow."

"Yes, yes. I already know. I won't become a sex fiend because I don't want to hurt you."

"Promise?"

"I promise, John." 


	3. Chapter 3

Ok... If your still with me, I have a feeling I should stop because there really isnt a plot here...

I dont know...depends on you... Enjoy ^.^

John knew that there was something consistant in Sherlock. Whenever Sherlock was angry or agitated, their sex would be rough. Whenever he would be in a good mood, their sex would be soft and loving. He guesses it's the type of mood he's in. He knows that roughness adds to the excitement but he couldn't handle it everyday. One day, he actually avoided him.

"No case." Sherlock mumbled to himself as he slumped down on the couch and leaned over, covering his face in his hands. He mumbled to the point where John couldn't hear him anymore.

"What?"

"Bored, John! Bored! Do you know what that means?" He growled out as he jumped out of his seat and paced around a few. It had only been two days ago since he received a pounding from him. Of course he was still sore from that other night. He loves Sherlock but it's impossible to do that every chance he got. "Lestrade has NOTHING for me."

"I don't either, Sherlock. It's late and I have to eat." John sighed as he placed the laptop on top of the desk and shut it quietly. Sherlock sprang from his seat and took his arm.

"Why eat? Eating is boring. Why don't we-"

"Call Lestrade. Maybe he has something for you now." John slipped out of Sherlock's grip like a snake as he stared directly into Sherlock's gaze. He saw that he was confused but most importantly, angry. He felt Sherlock's grip tighten slightly as he moved in, diving in for a swift kiss... Too quick for him to even react. Then next thing he knew, Sherlock was invading his mouth with his tongue.

"Sherlock." He whispered his name breathlessly as he gently pushed him to break the kiss. "I have to go. Be back soon." John rushed out and shut the door behind him as swift as he could, not even looking at his gaze on the way out. He pressed his back against the door, leaning all of his weight against it and sighing heavily. Why not tell him? No, Sherlock wouldn't understand. Without a word, he left the flat to diminish the hopes in succumbing to his own emotions.

-XxX-

He returned that same night, full and exhausted. He had bumped into Lestrade. They chatted a few, ate a few, and drank a few after they departed their separate ways. Before they did, he told John that this was a quiet night and that Sherlock should rest.

He pushed open the unlocked door and slowly stepped into the quiet flat. He scanned the room for Sherlock but it was strange when he couldn't find him. He began removing his coat as he kicked the door closed. He placed his coat on the coatrack and toed his shoes off, leaving them neatly by the door. He stretched his arms as much as he could and yawned while walking towards his room. Still no Sherlock. Had he finally found something to do on his own?

John lifted his stripe blue shirt and tossed it in the hamper. He whipped off his belt and unbuttoned his pants. As he pushed it down and off of his legs, he heard a noise on the far corner of his room and turned his eyes to that direction. He froze his actions and still stared. When he saw nothing move, he stripped slowly until he reached his briefs. He shut the door from letting any light get into his room before climbing into bed carefully and sliding the bed sheet above his shoulders. There he laid, back against the bed and facing the ceiling, staring before shutting his eyes.

It wasn't moments until he heard rusting before he felt the bed sheet tug slightly. He didn't move, he just waited. He felt warm hands spread his legs but not too far apart. Now he knew exactly who it was and his hand flew to his shoulder. "Sherlock, no. I'm too tired to give." He told him in a harsh tone.

"Then just receive." He heard him reply in a hot whisper against his ear which immediately shot towards his growing erection. Slim hands slid up the middle of his chest, over his shoulder to the nape of his neck. Sherlock may not see anything in the black but he could imagine John. Every aspect of him was already burned into his "hard-drive".

John groaned as he leaned to kiss him heatedly, his tongue sliding in almost immediately to meet Sherlock's. His back arched only to meet Sherlocks naked skin in a shudder. "Your not wearing anything..." he pointed out as he broke the kiss. He heard him chuckle as he felt his lips against his chest.

"I like to sleep nude. Clothes just gets in the way." Sherlock growled against his chest as his tongue swept against his perked nipple, smiling when he heard him whimper. He then began to nibble lower into his bellybutton until he ceased all movement. "You have a question?"

"Yes," John said after a few moments after gathering himself. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why? I can't make love to you?"

"But you don't believe in love." John whispered out as he thrusted his hips slightly, knuckles already white from gripping the sheets too hard as Sherlocks hands palmed and grounded Johns cock from above his briefs.

"I don't accept the whole concept." He explain as his fingers rimmed the waistband and began pulling his briefs off of his waist.

"Then what do you call this?" He managed to say as his hand quickly caught Sherlocks wrist from feeling his erection. He had stopped to think about Johns actions before forgetting his hands. He dipped his head to suck at the tip and bob his head to leave John in a whimpering mess as he swallowed him, making his throat constrict to tighten against the tip before lifting his head enough to assault the tip with his tongue. He trailed a tongue down his shaft and sucked on his balls until he felt like it was enough.

"Just because I don't accept the idea with other people," He paused as he made his way back up and sliped his wrist from John grip after his hand fell from his wrist loosely. Sherlocks fingers wrapped around the base and began to stroke him gently, working his mouth against the tip. Johns breath hitched as a hand blindly try to grab something of Sherlock. Since he had no clothes on, he gripped his hair hard enough to cause pain but all Sherlock did was moan. "Just because I don't accept the idea with other people," he repeated before releasing John completely as he crawled up so that they would be nose-to-nose. "That doesn't mean that I reject it from you."

"Sherlock..." John groaned as he licked his lips, arching his back and raising his hips to grind against Sherlocks erections in a long, torturous stoke with little friction. Sherlock hissed as he responded, hips pressing against him until John laid fully on his back. Sherlock stopped his movements to crawl back downward and swallow him whole once more. "I'm so close... Sherlock-" Fingers were placed by his lips and John sucked both of them in greedingly, moaning as Sherlock raised his head. His fingers also slipped out of Johns panting mouth. "Sherlock... Where are you... I can't see." John panicked a moment as he reached at random places until he felt Sherlocks fingers intertwine with his. Suddenly, tight heat surrounded his cock and sounds of Sherlock crying out indicated that he was inside of him. John found his hands on his hip as he trusted upwards, impaling Sherlock further. "Oh god... Sherlock."

"It's alright John." Sherlock whispered breathlessly as he raised himself and suddenly dropped, making hismself cry out in pure pleasure as he felt John nudge his prostrate. His hand gripped his shoulder as he raised himself once more. His fingers ran through the large scar on his shoulder before impaling himself further.

"Sherlock..." John lifted his body so that he was able to hug Sherlock tightly, releasing there intertwined fingers and pushing Sherlock down while thrusting upwards. The friction between their body's began pressing up against Sherlocks cock and that was almost all he needed. "I bloody love you, Sherlock." he grunted out as he pounded unto him mercilessly as he blindly pressed his lips against Sherlock.

All of the sensations of Johns pounding, the friction between them and the sudden explosion of passion sent him off the end, grunting his release as he threw his arm around his neck. He broke the kiss and placed his chin against John's shoulder, breathing harshly as he came down from his orgasm, still having John trying to reach his. "Come, John. Come for me." Sherlock rasped against his ear as he dragged his tongue up his neck. "I love you too."

John came loudly at his last words, pressing Sherlock harder against him and snapping his hips upwards. It took a moment for him to still his movements and when he did, he held Sherlock in his arms in a tight embrace. He panted lightly, breath reaching the nape of Sherlocks neck, sending goose pimples down his back. After another moment, he leaned back until his back hit the matress. Sherlock laid on top, arms still around his neck but it wasn't long until he released him and rolled to his side. "John?"

There was no response.

"John?" he raised his head slightly.

There was a slight mumble.

"John-"

"Sleep, Sherlock. I'm exhausted." John groaned as he pulled the bedsheets above his shoulders and turned to his side. Sherlock blinked a few times before resting his head on the pillow, remembering what he had just told John. He really meant it and for the first time, he expressed his love in words and actions. It was all because of John.

-XxX-

Sherlock shifted in bed, arms streaching to meet Johns but the only problem was that he didn't feel anything. "John?" his voice became sharp and serious. "John?" he raised his voice a bit higher.

"Kitchen." A familiar voice replied from outside of the room as the smell of eggs hit his senses. Its been a while since he ate... Two days, perhaps. His body had slowly betrayed him as he felt his stomach growl slightly. He sighed as he placed his hand over his bare stomach and just remembered that he had no clothes. There's always something at the end to ruin a good plan-

He saw the robe at the end of his bed and smiled. John was always there to mend the plan to make it complete. He wasn't panning on walking of there completely bare so he took the robe as he slid off the bed and wrapped it around him, tieing the strings into a bow. He slipped on the fuzzy slipper that he also left for him and began walking about.

John had just finnished cooking scrambled eggs with toast and placed them next to the cup of coffee. Sherlock walked is and chuckled when he saw that John prepared two plates but deeply, it warmed his heart. "John... How did you-"

"You haven't eaten for two days, Sherlock. I have been keeping track and I know the times when you actually eat. Since you don't have anything this hour, why don't you join me for breakfast?" John pulled open a seat for Sherlock. John admits that all of this seems cheesy to Sherlock because... Well... It seems bloody cheesy to him. He just wanted to do something for him. Nothing fancy but to get the day going. "I'm sure once you've eaten, you should get your energy back."

"I know. I'm not complaining. I'm thanking." He flashed a toothy smile as he sat in the chair John pulled out for him. He nodded and cleare his throat as he sat on the opposite direction from him. They stared at eachother, reading eachother in total silence. Not one of them took the fork and dug into the food yet because they were so concentrated.

"Uh..." John hesitated as he scratched the nape of his neck. "I insist you bite first." He let out with a sigh as he rested his hands on either side of the plate, fingering the fork as Sherlock nodded, taking the fork in his hands and dipping into the small peice of the eggs. John swallowed dryly as Sherlock bit the egg and began chewing. He slightly nodded as he swallowed and laughed.

"Never knew an army-doctor can cook so well."

"It's just eggs..." John quickly responded as he bit down his eggs.

"Sonething that I can burn." Sherlock joked as he took another bite and then looking at the coffee. "You..." he looked up at John and read him like a well-known book. "You clearly have questions. The words I said that night were true." Sherlock admitted as he took another bite. John paused momentarily before countinuing his eating. He right, though. He also made breakfast so that they would talk about that night.

"Why... Why me though?" He pointed the fork at himself before picking up another peice of egg and eating it. Sherlock looked up before placing his fork down and taking the small peice of the toast.

"I thought the answer was already obvious. You know me, John. Better than anyone... Possibly better than my own brother. You know me so well that I put my life into your hands not only once but twice. You have been living here with me for a few years and you still believed in me after what happened at Bart's-" at this point, his voice cracked slightly enough for John to pick up. His fork was placed down as he was brought back to the memory. Three years... "You don't drag me down like everyone else seems to do. You can handle me. You can handle the world that I live in and you can catch up quickly. Most importantly, you're there when I need you." Sherlock let out a strong breath before biting into his toast and sipping his coffee. He eyed John carefully as he cleared his throat to sip his own coffee.

"That was-" His voice broke and he took a deep breath. "Thank you." He gazed at him and grinned.

"You made me realize something," Sherlock paused as he shifted in his seat, eating the last peice of toast. "No one is immortal. We all have an expiration date. Some of us choose not to live life the fullest so after this breakfast, we are going to take a stroll down London. Put on your clothes, John! Adventure awaits!" he exclaimed with energy as he shot up from his chair.

"Wait... But what about Lestrade?"

"Adventure, John. London had plenty while crime scenes have too little to see! Why waste away in here or with Lestrade when we can be doing something FUN!" He dashed off to his room, leaving John alone.

He groaned as he rubbed his head. Maybe excited Sherlock was too much for him. The only lesson he learned was that he's too old for this. 


	4. Chapter 4

There will be some sweet bondage here so... Don't mind me. Also, Got an idea. You'll figure it out at the end of the chapter. Enjoy ^_^ _

"Jesus, Sherlock. You hit like a woman." John moaned in pain and gripped Sherlock's scarf that tied his wrist to the bed as Sherlock struck his bare back with a leather riding crop. His body was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, his arms crossed, and his legs nearly bent to his chest, spreading open his globes to show his puckered entrance.

"My apologies, It nearly slipped my mind that you invaded Afghanistan." Sherlocks voice was sharp and steady, not showing any signs of giving and and fucking the doctor into the mattress. Instead, he raised the crop and brought it down on Johns back but harder than the other attempts causing John to shout and arch his back away from Sherlock. "Better?"

"Sherlock," He groaned as he was struck once more. "We have a murderer to catch later. Can you make this-" He cried out of pain, cutting his sentence short as the crop was brought down near his balls.

"I'm well aware of the situation but didn't I tell you to adress me as..."

"Sir... I didn't know you had this kind of kink." John made a breathless chuckle before groaning as Sherlock's hand ran across the sensitive red skin. "Please..."

"Please?" Sherlock growled as he leaned forwards to grasp the tie that was on Johns neck and pulled, causing Johns back to arch forward, bringing his head near Sherlock's. "What do you want me to do?" Sherlock asked with his deep, husky voice as a tongue ran from collarbone to earlobe. He began to ache under his robe, the material rubbing against him in almost a nonexistent friction. He wanted to fuck him deep but he wanted John to ask for it. He wanted him to beg.

"Oh," he moaned as he rubbed himself against Sherlock, causing the detective to purr slightly. "I need... I need to come." He whispered breathlessly as he continued to rub his entrance against Sherlocks clothed cock, practically begging the detective to enter him. John wanted it badly, his leaking member agreeing with him.

Sherlock smirked at Johns movements as he roughly rub himself against him, causing the doctor to whimper. He raised the crop and struck him at the middle of his back for the last time, ignoring his cries before tossing the riding crop towards the corner of the bed. Beside him there was soothing cream and lubricant. He took the lotion first, pouring a mountain in his hand and began rubbing Johns back, especially against his red marks.

John responded with a painful hiss but his body still moved while Sherlock continued to massage the doctors sensitive skin. His left hand still moved but his right moved towards the lube. As soon as he took it and popped the lid open with his thumb, he poured a small amount near his entrance and closed the cap to place the lube next to him. He swiped his thumb against John hole, enjoying the noise that was released from his lips. "What do you want me to do?" Sherlock growled against his ear as he pulled his finger away, parting his robe in the process before letting it slide behind him.

"Please Sir, Fuck me deep and make me come with your cock." John rasped as be backed himself against Sherlock's thumb.

"Jesus, John. I never knew a doctor like you can't talk so filthy." Sherlock purred as he leaned forward, grabbing the lube blindly and slicking his member quickly, finding his patience to diminish. He wanted to be inside and claim John body just like the skillful doctor did to him the other night.

Sherlock untied Johns wrists and lined himself up as he pinned his wrists into the pillow. John turned his head sideways so that the pillow wouldn't suffocate him. Sherlock slid in easily, with one, smooth thrust that made John groan. "Oh god, Sherlock..." His mind spun as he forgot to call him 'sir' but Sherlock didnt care.

"Christ," Sherlock hissed as he snapped his hips forward, trying to find his prostrate in this new position. His left hand traced the sides of John's waist, feeling him finally responding to the intrusion. He felt John thrust his hips back to meet with Sherlock in every thrust, guiding him to his prostrate. Sherlock's hand gripped his waist as he placed a few well thrusts before locating what he was looking for.

John cried out as he arched his back, trying to take more of Sherlock as he could. The build was too much as he wimpered just before Sherlock reached around to grab the base of his cock to stop him from short of his release. "Oh god!" Johns body did a rough shudder as he tried to make Sherlock's hand move. "F-Fuck!" John turned his head to bite the pillow as Sherlock thrusted roughly at his prostrate.

"Don't worry... I'm almost there, John." Sherlock groaned as his movements became more desperate before his other hand released Johns wrists and his hand gripped the headboard. John was to weak to even raise himself so he just let Sherlock pound him. Suddely, Johns orgasm hit him hard as Sherlock released him and roughly hit his prostrate while releasing his seed deep within John.

Completly spent, Sherlock collapsed on John, panting as he gathered him in his arms, turning so that John's back would fit perfectly against his chest. The room was completly silent, nothing but quiet breaths between them. No one said anything, even until they slept.

-XxX-

John woke up the second he heard the violin. His head jerked up to look around and when he didn't see Sherlock, he kicked his feet out of bed. "Sherlock, we need to talk." He called out as he yanked the robe from the edge of the bed to throw it on. He kicked the door open and tied his robe closed. He immediatly saw Sherlock in a tuxedo. He was well dress and well combed but it made him blushed at how lovely he looks.

"Not now, John. We have a party to attend to."

"Party? Sherlock! You don't go to parties-"

"A Masquerade Ball, actually. There, will be a man we are looking for." Sherlock's voice seemed gentle as he lowered his violin until it hit the table softly. He then opened a envelope and removed the invitation, leaving the letter inside. "We will be going to Cafe de Paris. I took the liberty of measuring you for your tuxedo days ago while you were asleep. Right over that chair. Get dressed, quickly." Sherlock rushed towards the chair and took the bag-covered tuxedo just to toss it at him.

"But Sherlock-"

"Go. We have no time to talk." He ran and rushed John to his room before closing the door. Sherlock twitched his fingers so quickly, it was inhuman. He took the letter out of the envelope and opened it with the flick of his wrist.

"It's been so long, Sherlock Holmes. How long? Well four years, five months, and three days to be exact. How are you doing, my dear? Well, I hope. Anyways, I heard you've settles with another bloke other than myself. I also heard that he is a doctor! Good job, you make me proud. I was hoping we could meet and have a long chat so I decided to invite you to a masqurade! Besides, I missed you. Come on down and I will speak of the details. Bring John too."

Sherlock didn't see any initials at the end of the script-written letter but he knew exactly who wrote it. It wasn't Jim. No. It couldn't be Sebastian either. It was someone who couldn't possibly be a threat but could cause huge trouble.

John finally opened the door when he was finished, streachig his arms and chuckling at how well it fits. "I can't believe you took my measurement while I was asleep." It was his way of thanking Sherlock without actually saying it. Then, he quickly looked at him, noticing that Sherlock was quiet. "Sherlock...?"

"There will be a man there. A man that I know very well. If you get frightened by anything he says, tug on my sleave."

"But why would I be frightened?"

"Because he is almost like me. Not like how my brother is but the man was the most... Closest man to me." John took note at his tone of voice and the way he describes him as 'man' and not 'friend'. It confused him and frightened him slightly before Sherlock passed his mask towards him. "Not to worry, we should be fine."

"I should catch a cab." John told him before he left, forgetting to speak to Sherlock about a few hours ago. As soon as he walked out, he saw the bright, full moon and stared as if he were under it's spell. Then, lifted an arm to call a cab that was about to pass his way. Just before it had stopped, Sherlock walked out and locked the door behind him. John put on his mask and slid in the car before Sherlock, telling the cabbie where to go. "Sherlock, What happened when we..." He looked at Sherlock, hoping he would catch on.

"I wanted to try something different." He turned his head towards John and gave him a cheeky smile. "Besides, if we're going to be snagging like bunnies-"

"Sherlock," John whispered as he saw the cab driver look at them through his rearview. John blushed deeply as he turned back to Sherlock. "Don't mention that word please. At least not here."

"Don't worry, John. The cabbies are really not suppose to open their mouths about what happens here..." Sherlock slowly took his hand and leaned in close to plant a soft kiss against his lips. John didn't back away, he didn't even flinch slightly but his mind was protesting. "See-"

"Actually," The two heard the cabby talk. His voice much like a mixture of both John and Sherlock's. The cab suddenly stopped and turned to park. "Real cabbies don't do. I do." The cabbie turned his head and John immediatly met up with his gray eyes. John couldnt help but to stare at his features. Much simmilars to Sherlock except the cheekbones. The man was a bit larger than him, too. His hair was like a chocolate silk, flipped to the back and perfectly combed to perfection. And his lips were nice and full. "It's been a while, Sherlock." He stretched his arm to trail his finger against Sherlock's jawline. The detective seem to go soft after his touch, as if he known and respected him which scared John.

"Victor Simmons..."  
>-<p>

*Ducks and runs away from everyone*

Florda is kinda mean but at the same time, I have a lot of time to write but... It was for other stories so... Yah...

Now I must change summary ^.^ 


End file.
